Reader x Samus
by bigbook29
Summary: [First time P.O.V One-shot story] You are just an old bartender, doing another late days of work. That's all it is supposed to be, all it was ever gonna be. You serve drinks, and pretend you don't see anything. At least that was the idea. Then this woman showed up.


**Been dealing with writers block for a bit, and also dealing with some things in life. This is just something so I can get back into the mood for writing. Always been a fan of Metroid, and this random idea for a little thing just popped in my head randomly. Even First time making such a one-shot. Hope you all enjoy.**

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You are a bartender. You make drinks, you don't ask for tips, you don't see anything, you don't hear anything.

When someone tells you something, you keep it to yourself till you see the boss. Those were the rules that you were told, the day you got your promotion. It's been a long time since then.

Back when you were a kid, space pirates raided your people. Killed the men, took the women and children. Some were eaten, some were kept as toys, you were one of the lucky ones that were sold.

You don't know what happened with your parents. You had gotten a new one in your owner. His name was Bert.

Boring name, for a busy guy. He owned the bar, bought you and several other kids on a whim. The pretty ones were put to work as 'entertainment'. You and the others were put to work as cleaners. Not a lot of them stayed. Some were sold again. Traders, slave drivers, those looking for a good meal, it didn't matter. They were better off than if Bert found you trying to escape. You would be made an example of if that were the case.

You saw those examples be made and took their lessons to heart to this day.

Did exactly what you were told and didn't so much as made a noise unless you needed to. You grew up fast, and then grew old in time. Your life spent working in this place. The Federation got involved years ago, their sad excuse of a police-force came in. The others, the children you came with; what was left of them anyway; all left when they had a chance.

You didn't. You stayed. This bar, the people that came in, was all you knew.

It didn't last when Bert was arrested.

Some credits were given, and Bert was more than allow to come back to his bar. He was not happy to see that some of his merchandise had run off. He found them, got them back. Killed them, all expect you. He gotten some misinterpreted idea of loyalty. Told you, that he was proud. Said it was time you had a promotion.

You were no longer a cleaner. You became a 'busboy'. You helped clean more out in the open now. Saw more things happen, instead of being force to just clean after closing. You were never big enough to be a 'muscle', but you were good at doing what you were told. One day you were told to stay behind the bar, and it just stuck.

You are now the bartender.

Instead of the cellar underground were the other slaves slept, you sleep upstairs in a bed. Instead of just some random kid, you now have a name again.

'Mech' you are called. Probably was nowhere near close to your real name. And that's how it's been for years. You don't really get paid, and if you leave, Bert would just have you killed. But you are kept busy, and you are allowed to eat actual food now.

Things are as good as they are ever gonna be.

Every morning, Bert wakes you up and tells you what needs to be done today. You take a look at yourself in the mirror of the public restrooms. You're old. Your hair is all gray now. You feel a creak along your back as you stand up from you bed now-a-days.

You try not to think about it, just push on.

The bar needs a bartender, and if you show to be getting slow then you will be considered garbage. And you've seen Bert take care of garbage. You've were the one to clean up those messes after all.

It a usual night. The bar was crowded with customers, all on the 'scene' as it's called with the lights flashing all around them.

Some were dancing, some were injecting themselves, others were drinking, some eating dishes that you cannot even pronounce the name of, and you are sure has bits of human cooked in them. It's loud, with eldritch music blaring from the old surround system.

Bert's favorite.

He was there within the crowd. Sitting at his personal booth surrounded by some muscle, a woman at either side of him. Either playing with his ponytail or having his drooling lips on their neck. A third girl is between his legs, earning her food for tonight. You can only see the top of her head bobbing from the bar.

Such a thing is normal here. Slaves like them, and even some of the pretty customers do things like that. Most of the time they don't want to do those things, sometimes they are younger, sometimes they are crying. Sometimes they are with their friends, laughing and having a good time, throwing their credits around without a care, other times they are thrown onto the table. Four to seven men, taking turns with them. On more quiet nights, you can hear them screaming or begging for it to stop.

Those are the ones that hurt the most.

The slave girls were either busy dancing or serving the customers. You see one of older ones fall to the floor, dropping the drink she was serving. The glass pitcher shattering isn't even heard over the loud music. You can't even hear her as a customer grab her by her tendril-like hair to pull her up to her feet. He is screaming at her, and she is starting to cry.

You turn away from it, picking up one of the half-empty glasses on the counter. A forgotten drink by one the customers. You dump it content in a sink and get to cleaning it with a dirty rag from your pocket. You needed to keep your attention elsewhere.

Most of the glassware don't survive for long and no one cares what condition they are in most of the time, but Bert hates to buy new ones. Bert sees you trying to keep some clean, he lets you be able to sleep another hour.

Sleeps the only time you get to relax.

"Hey, barkeep?" A voice calls. A cold voice with little to no emotion behind it. You look up from the glass your cleaning, and a woman is staring back at you from her seat on the counter. You've seen plenty like her, beautiful, and wearing little clothing.

All she had on her were shorts and a small top, with a zipper down the middle. Usually her type doesn't last long in here. Either ending up a broken mess on the floor, or dead.

But this one was different.

Taller, muscular, and having the eyes of a solider.

You've seen soldiers before. They are the ones that are the most broken. They drink the most, get in the most fights, kill the most customers.

One moment they are just another face in a crowd of customers, dancing and enjoying themselves, the next they are at the counter sobbing horribly. Bert always warns you of soldiers.

But again, she was different. A woman.

Not a girl. Girls would wear make-up and have these little bags with them. Always talking a lot and trying to get attention. There was none of that fluff with her. Quiet, not trying to show herself off or go dancing with the rest. Subdue, you think the word is.

You remember when she came in, all she had on her was a wallet filled with credits, which she handed to you. Told you to start a tab. You were good with numbers; been keeping track of the money she gave you. Still had enough for a couple more drinks.

You take out the open bottle that was resting under the counter. 'The Metroid' it's called. Strongest drink at the bar. It's what she ordered, taking it in shot glasses.

Usually the pretty customers only ask for 'pretty' drinks. When they order the stronger stuff, they either pass out or only take one or two sips of it. You once saw one of the customers die from drinking a shot 'The Metroid'. This woman was on her fifth shot glass and didn't look the least bit affected by it.

Refilling the glass for the sixth time, she stares at you with those cold blue eyes. "Busy night?" She asks, her voice just barely being heard over the loud music. She wasn't even trying to raise her voice, only reason you could was because how close you were.

You're the bartender. Sometimes people talked to you about things. Bert told you, that you always need to kill the conversation before it could continue. 'You got time to talk, you got time to work.' He would tell you. "It's always a busy night." You say back, giving a small cough. The woman's eyes don't leave you. Instead, they start to trail up and down along your body. "You the boss of this place?" She asks, as she leans forward to the counter, letting you hear her better. An almost bored expression was on her face as she holds her head up with one hand in a lax manner. Her other hand, running a finger along the rim of the glass.

"Boss is over there." You tell her, while gesturing your arm to Bert. Bad time to do so.

Even from the counter on the other side of the bar, you can see what happened. The third girl was on the floor. Her neck set to a crooked angle. One of the other girls taking her place, bobbing her head as she takes in Bert's shaft. Going much deeper than the third girl did. You didn't do your job good enough, you were garbage.

Another mess to clean.

"Classy guy." The woman says back, taking a glance at the scene before looking back to you, not even seeming phased by what she saw.

As if she was already used to it like you. She throws her head back as she takes her sixth the shot raw. Her blonde hair tied in a perfect ponytail bounced because of how quick she moved. She turns the glass upside down and place it on the counter, before now using both her hands to hold her head up. "What about you?" "Nothing about me." You turn your back to her and start moving aside the bottles of drinks on the shelves behind you. Looking busy, that was you are supposed to do if you weren't serving someone.

If Bert caught you talking, it would end badly.

"Really? Nothing. Well han-" "Heeey, there Princess!" An obnoxious voice calls out from behind you. This one was shouting, wanting to be heard over the music. Turning around, you see three men. Each one having large bodies, made up of scales and muscles, walked up to the bar counter. One took up either side of the woman, and the third one was standing behind her.

You can see an annoyed look form in the woman's eyes. She keeps them on you though. As if trying not to pay mind to the other men around her. Even as the one on her right was moved his arm over her shoulders and was shamelessly fondling her left breast over her top. The one on her left was panting for breath already, rubbing himself through his shorts with a bulge noticeably starting to form.

The one behind the woman had already started to unbuckle his pants. He taken his cock out and was stroking himself.

You've seen this kinda behavior before. You know what happens next. They will grab this woman and pull her away. Violet every hole they can fit themselves in. This always happens. Girls get pulled away; bad things happen to them. For a moment, you look to the bottle of 'The Metroid'. It was a very thick bottle. Would hurt if it were thrown at someone's face.

Your attention is grabbed hear one of the men speak. "Come on gorgeous, let's have some fu-err" The one on her right said. His other hand grabbed her arm and he move to pull her away. The woman doesn't even budge an inch, not even as the large reptilian man tries to pull her with both his arms.

"Beer, closed bottle." The woman says to you, her cold eyes intensely staring back at you. Wordlessly you reach into the cooler next to you, you take out a glass bottle of human alcohol and hand it to her. Without a shed of hesitation, the woman smashes the bottle on the face of the man holding her. He screams as shards of glass are embedded in his eyes. His friends freeze up, looking as shocked as you probably are right now.

Neither of them get a chance to react. The half-broken bottle is stabbed into the neck of the man to her left. Purple blood leaks out like a fountain as he falls to the floor.

The third one, finally starts to react. He tries to run away. The woman grabs him by his long red hair and pulls him back toward her.

His teeth are smashed into the metal counter, his green blood mixing with the purple that had splattered there. He is only able to let out a low gurgle before the woman puts his head under her arm in a tight hold.

You think the music would be enough to cover the noise, but the sound of a man dying it always heard. There was a quick creak.

Tossing him to the ground, the woman turns her attention to the one that was previous touching her breast. The one on the floor, with glass stuck in his eyes was still screaming in pain. Sobbing, like a child. You can make out the woman give out an annoyed "Oh shut up." Before she stomps her foot down, a disgusting squishing noise is faintly heard, even over the loud music. You take a peek over the counter and see the hole where the man's face use to be. All smashed inward now.

The woman leans back on the counter and gives a disgusted groan. Blood was on her face and hands, and yet she didn't so much as blink at that.

Instead she was just looking to her gore covered boot. You reach into the sink and pullout a wet washcloth from it. "Thanks." She tells you, as she starts to wipe herself clean. You tried not to stare, moving your eyes elsewhere to continue working.

Not like you weren't used to pretty customers or strong customers. But strong and pretty was a new one for you. Didn't want to accidently get her attention on you and end up like the men dead at her feet. As you are going to place a cap on the bottle of 'The Metroid', you feel a wet cloth hit your shoulder.

The woman threw it at you.

And she was giving you that cold stare again. Part of you wondered if she was an android. Would explain why she was strong, displayed little emotion, and just looked flawless. "How much for you?" The question was like a jab to your nose.

"What?" You reply, thinking you wrongly heard her over the sound of the music. That maybe she was talking about other things. She leans closer so you can hear her better as she spoke in a low tone. "How much, do I need to pay you, to spend a night with me?" No hesitation again, not even the least bit of emotion. She was looking at you, with her eyes trailing up and down along your body. A bored look on her face. "I heard rumors that you could pay for a little company here for a single night. I'm looking to buy you." She reaches under the counter, picks the pockets of one of the dead men.

She takes out a wallet with some credits inside and place it on the counter in front of you.

You try to affirm her of her mistake. The drinks she had taken were clearly affecting her more than you thought.

"You don't want me. We have uh...younger ones in the back, boys and girls if yo-" The woman reaches down under the counter again, this time slipping off her off her blood covered shoe and placing it on the counter. "I don't want boys, and I'm not into girls. I want a man." She tells you, as she takes off her other shoe and puts it on the counter as well. Never looking away from you. Nerves started to get to you. You look to Bert.

The muscle was making way, letting him pass through the other customers as he was leaving his table. A small bag was one of his hands. The two girls giving out forced smiles as they follow him. It was time for Bert to have his 'me time' as he calls it. Sometimes if the servant girls are 'good enough', he let them take a hit or two. He doesn't even look at you as he heads to the backroom with the girls.

One of those very rare times you don't need to worry about Bert seeing you not working.

"3000." "W-What?" You snap your head back to the woman, not being able to get through your head what was happening. As she suddenly offered a price.

You are old, no one usual gives you more than a glance. Yet this beautiful woman, was offering a price for you. Twice as much as Bert would charge for the younger servants. "Fine...6000." Before you could even respond to such a thing, the woman stands up, and begins walking to the other side of the counter, where small doorway was leading to your side of the counter.

Bert always told you customers were never allowed back here, and you must keep them out. But you freeze up, as this beautiful woman just walk up to you like she worked here as well. She undoes the zipper on her top, and showed she was not wearing a bra underneath. Her breast were large. "I-I am not...good. You just be wasting your money." You try to tell her, your eyes not breaking away as she continues to walk to you, with her breast slightly bouncing on each step.

"I-I am just an old man." You try to not stare, but she was just too beautiful to look away from. If there was such a thing as perfect, she was it. You try to look to other places. The customers dancing, the passed-out man on the other side of the bar, the woman's bare feet that were leaving bloody foot-prints.

She moves right up to you. The cheap pants that you wore, did little to hide how excited you really were. You could feel sweat forming on your head. You've been around naked girls before, but this was not a girl. It was a real woman. Her face, not even changing the slightest as she still looks bored. "I like old men." She tells you just before she gives you a shove, knocking you against counter. You nearly fall over from such a little action, but you manage to grip onto the counter just before you could fall. You make one last effort to try and convince her to stop, only to see her squatting down in front of you, even lowering your head so her face was at level with bulge on your pants. She lays a hand onto it, gently massaging it up with a stroking motion. You gasp, force to hold the counter to keep yourself from falling over as your knees start to quiver. "9000." She says so casually, continuing to stroke you as she continues to give a bored expression, even taking a firmer grip on your shaft through your pants.

You try to say something back, your lips shaking as you try to form words, but is stopped as the woman roughly pulls your pants down. Your cock swelled with excitement slaps down right on her face. This did make her smile. You were not that big, you never even considered yourself one of the 'pretty' ones, your hair was gray and unkempt, you were old, tired, and sweaty. Probably smelled too. And this beautiful woman was smiling at you, as she takes your cock and shoves it into her mouth.

You give out a yelp at such a feeling. It was not at all what you ever imagine such a feeling to be. You see Bert and other customers do such things with the pretty ones before. It's a very strange sense for you. You could feel her tongue, and teeth moving as she bobs her head back and forth. Easily taking all of your length down her throat. you can feel shivers running through you, making you clench your teeth to avoid groaning out loud.

She doesn't just do one motion. She does much more. She pulls herself away and repeatedly trails her tongue along your shaft from base to tip, she takes a moment to

lay a soft kiss on the tip before rolls her tongue along it. She even pays attention to your lower area. Sucking your balls while, stroking you off with her hand.

It couldn't have been more than a minute in, before you start panting for breath. You can feel something in yourself reaching a breaking point. The woman only stops for one moment. It was to straighten her back and moves your cock right between her breasts.

"Come on Handsome, can't have me do all the work." She nudges herself only slightly. Holding your cock in place by pushing her breast together.

You do the rest. There was no control, or gentleness. You place on hand on her shoulder, and another on her head as you began to thrust your hips into her. She looks up to, keeping her smile as you can visible see your cock peeking out from between her breast with each thrust. "Come on Handsome, is that all you have?" It was. You didn't last long at all. Only a few seconds with a couple of thrust. Closing your eyes, you can feel yourself releasing. You can her the woman as she gives out a light gasp.

Opening your eyes, you see the woman with your cum sprayed over her face. A long strain reaching from her chin to over her left eye. Some was even on her hair. This is the first time you ever done something like this. As one would expect, it was messy.

"I-I'm sorry!" You say, frighten. You see how some of the girls act if one of the other customers make so much as a mess, especially on either their hair or dress. She just continues to smile up at you. Her tongue trailing along her lips, licking up a small amount of the white liquid up like it was a treat. "Hmmm, yummy." She calls to you.

Your breathing is off. You try to maintain yourself. You hold yourself up with both hands on the counter, looking down to the woman, who was moving your flaccid cock out of her breast.

"Mech, where the hell are you doing? You're supposed to be servin-"

You're in bless one moment, and the next, Bert comes back from the backroom.

He was angry, spit launching from his mouth. You are barely able to get a glance at him being alive before the bullet came in, easily traveling upward through

the roof of his mouth through his left eye. His dead body collapses onto the counter. Splattered all over the bar, and yourself with bits of blood and brains.

You look to the woman, there was a gun in her hand. A pistol.

The same pistol that was supposed tapped under the counter, meant only for cases of 'emergencies' like someone came in shooting. You never even fired it once or

even cleaned it. Still worked it seemed.

There was another thing. Turns out when you kill the boss, you get a lot more attention than just killing some random people. Customers were all looking at your direction. The muscle that were supposed to guard Bert were all taking out their own guns. You don't get a chance to speak, as suddenly you are grabbed by the front of your shirt and pulled to the floor. Your face hits the metal, and your head throbs from pain. You are barely able to make out the woman whispering in your ear. "Nothing personal, handsome."

You pick yourself up, pushing yourself up to your knees, and find she is no longer next to you. She jumped over the bar. Bullets rang out above you. You rely on instinct, you throw yourself back to the floor and hold your hands over your hand. You didn't even have a moment to pull your pants back up as Bullets and hot plasma shot out above your head, clearly cutting through the counter and nearly missing you if you weren't laying on the floor. Broken glass, and large amount of liquor start to pour on you. The shooting destroying the bottles above you.

You started to crawl, keeping to your stomach as you move forward. You can hear something else, through the sounds of bullets flying, customers screaming and running out, music blaring. Crawling to the opening for the counter, you look out to the dance floor, and see what it was. The woman was killing each and every one of the muscle that fired at her.

Red, purple, green, blue, all kinds of blood spattered around the room and more than half of them were already dead. The Woman was murdering each and everyone one she could get her hands on with her bare hands. She moved like a blur, the muscle panic she gets close to each of them.

One was an aquatic man, with large fins on his body. He was panicking. Shooting around himself, trying to hit the woman. She was effortlessly dodging each shoot.

She stomped on his knee, easily breaking through it. You can barely hear his scream right before his head is smashed against the floor. It easily breaks apart, like it was a water balloon.

The few that were left kept shooting, they were barely aiming, shots were firing, but they kept either missing her or she would move out of the way just in time. She rarely stopped moving for more than a moment. She grabs one of the men and threw him against the wall, he doesn't even get a chance to raise his hand up in defiance as she smashes his head in with her barefoot.

Last man comes running to you, toward the counter. Probably just trying to get away. He doesn't get fair. The woman catches him first, she grabs his shoulder and spun him around to face her. He tries to call out to her. Pleading for his life. She could see the smile on her face as she smashes her fist against his face. His jaw easily breaks. You can see it hang as the man falls to the floor right in front of you. He turns to you, with so much fear in his eyes. He tries to call to you to help. You don't get a chance to react.

The woman brings her foot up and stomps it down on the face of what was once a living thing. His blood splattered all over your face. The woman began to laugh, a wrong twisted sounding laugh. It was like no other laugh you ever heard. There was no joy behind it. Just a laugh.

She looks to you. Blood on her face, her hands, her feet, even her still uncovered breast.

The smile that was there, was without a hint of mercy or fear. Wordlessly, she continues to look down at you for a moment longer. You think she is gonna kill you next, that you are just gonna be another body to be cleaned up. There was no one left in the bar, all the other customers either dead or ran off as soon as the shooting started so the two of you were alone.

"You know...I was serious about paying you. I kinda like old men." She walks to the counter, and picks up her shoes, even taking a brand wallet out of the heel of one of them. She tosses something on your back from it. "Go through some of these pockets and call up the Federation. Shame a shoot-out had to happen here, I liked the place. Next time handsome."

She turns around and begins to leave the bar. Her hips swaying as she walked. She only stopped to reach behind the bar and take the bottle of 'The Metroid' with her as she leaves.

Wasn't till much later that you found out what she gave you. That you found out who she was.

90,000 credits, more than enough to fix the bar. You were good with numbers after all. And you did what you were bought for. You cleaned up the mess.

Time passed, and you manage to fix the place up. It was still a rundown slob, but now you were the one that owned it, as there was literally no one else to claim it. Better than living without a home.

One day a large man came in and asked if it was okay to have a few friends. Next thing you knew, business was good, and the bar became a place for bounty hunters. They come in, get their drinks, talk with friends do deals, have sex, trade stories.

You mainly spend your time, still at the same place. You're a bartender after all.

The woman came back. You have gotten to know her. She comes in, talks with many of the other hunters. They all know her name, they all know not to get fights into her.

You've seen more than one case where she talks with a couple and takes them to one of the bathrooms for a private chat. Sometimes more than one. Sometimes male, other times female.

She calls you her favorite though. Keeps telling you how she likes old men. Embarrassingly likes to show you are her favorite in front of the other customers. Found out some time she was put on a bounty for Bert. Didn't expect to meet up with a handsome guy.

You tell her, every chance you get, that you are thankful. That she was a good person for what she did. She tells you she didn't do it because she's nice. She did it because she can. No other reason around it.

You have an image of her on the bar, wearing her work suit minus the helmet. Showing that smile that only she has.

Her name is Samus Aran. The Galaxy's greatest bounty hunter.


End file.
